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The murmur of a neighbouring stream Induced a soft and slumberous dream, A
pregnant dream within whose shadowy bounds He recognised the earth-born
Star, And That whose radiance gleamed from far ; And (strange to witness !) from
Perhaps it was a bower beneath whose leaves The violets of five seasons re-
appear And fade, unseen by any human eye ; Where fairy water-breaks do
murmur on For ever, — and I saw the sparkling foam, And with my cheek on one
of those ...
Him rather suits it, side by side with thee, Wrapped in a fit of pleasing indolence,
While thy tired lute hangs on the hawthorn tree, To lie and listen, till o'er-drowsed
sense Sinks, hardly conscious of the influence, To the soft murmur of the vagrant
Five years have passed; five summers, with the length Of five long winters ! and
again I hear These waters, rolling from their mountain-springs With a sweet
inland murmur. * — Once again Do I behold these steep and lofty cliffs, Which on
And, grinning in his turn, his teeth He in jocose defiance showed — When, to
confound his spiteful mirth, A murmur, pent within the earth, In the dead earth
beneath the road, Rolled audibly ! — it swept along — A muffled noise — a
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the kitten of the filling leaves bp[y willam words worth
My favorite is "Solitary Reaper". When I first read it, I fell in love with the poem. It's like Wordsworth wrote it for me only.
I always feel understood and totally embraced everytime I read this poem and walk away with a full heart.